


No Special Occasion

by vgersix



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Blanket Fic, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Shore Leave, Sleepy Cuddles, Space Husbands, old married spirk, second 5 year mission, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 20:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5884708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vgersix/pseuds/vgersix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's shore leave on the <em>Enterprise</em>, but Jim and Spock aren't going anywhere except straight to bed. Jim surprises Spock with a random gift and they enjoy some much needed R and R. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Special Occasion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plaidshirtjimkirk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk/gifts).



> This is shameless fluff and smut. Plaid asked for "Spirk cuddling under a fluffy blanket" and this is what they got, LOL. 
> 
> Timing: This takes place during the second 5 year mission between _The Motion Picture_ and _The Wrath of Khan_.
> 
> Written for K/S Valentine 2016!

The corridors of the _USS Enterprise_ were abuzz with activity, crewmen chattering excitedly amongst themselves about their various plans for shore leave. Even the manner in which they moved seemed different, as if little springs had been installed in the heels of their Starfleet issue boots overnight – considering the way they all but skipped in and out of turbolifts, backpacks and duffel bags gleefully slung over their shoulders.

The one exception of course, was Spock, who paced the halls with his usual, perfectly efficient speed, and more than once he had to step aside to allow a more eager crewman to get by. He was relieved to arrive at his own cabin door in a slightly longer than usual timeframe – approximately 3.2 minutes after leaving the bridge.

As the doors parted and he stepped through into his quarters, he was startled to find that the room was not vacant.

“Ah, Admiral,” he said as the doors closed behind him. “I was not expecting you.”

Jim was sitting on Spock’s couch, staring intently at a communicator which he held at arm’s length in one hand. From his vantage point across the room, Spock could just see the digital readout ticking off seconds of time on the device screen.

“Spock,” Jim said, putting away the communicator and looking up with a smile. “You’re late. Usually only takes you 2 minutes and 30 seconds to get here.” He grinned mischievously. “I was beginning to worry.”

“Jim,” Spock said, “The crew seems ready to disembark. The corridors were… somewhat crowded.”

Jim laughed, stowing his communicator in a pocket. “I don’t blame them. But, I don’t know… Were we ever so young and eager?”

“As memory serves,” Spock said with a raised brow.

“Ah, well. I don’t know about you, but I was thinking something a little less energetic might be in the cards for this shore leave. As a matter of fact,” Jim said, rising from the couch and going to Spock’s desk. “That’s why I’m here.”

Only now did Spock notice the large shipping container sitting on his desk, next to the computer. Jim picked it up and held it out expectantly, offering it to Spock.

“What is this?” the Vulcan asked.

“It’s for you. I went down planetside this afternoon during Beta shift and got it for you.”

Spock took the box in his hands, surprised to find that despite the container’s rather large size, it was not altogether heavy.

“I do not understand. A gift?”

Jim smiled, nodding affectionately. “Yes, Spock. A gift. Though I’m sorry I didn’t have time to wrap it up properly. Go ahead and open it.”

Spock frowned. “May I ask as to what occasion necessitates a gift?”

Jim rolled his eyes, tossing his head back in an expression of feigned annoyance with which Spock had become quite familiar over the years. He knew the human intended it to convey humor rather than any real animosity.

“There’s no special occasion, Spock, and it’s hardly a necessity. Just open it. Come over here and sit down,” he said, returning to the couch and patting the seat with one hand.

Spock remained standing, eyes roaming over the box, his brow furrowing in confusion. “But I do not have any gift for you, Jim. Should I have?”

Jim sighed, exasperated. “No, Spock. It’s fine; it’s just a random surprise! Come on and sit down already. You’re killing me!”

Spock sat, looking down at the box now perched on his lap. “I do not see how my hesitation to open the container is in any way endangering your life, however…”

Jim huffed, leaning over to kiss Spock’s cheek. “Shh! Just open it, please.”

Spock regarded his t’hy’la, finding that same eagerness he had observed in his crewmates fleeing the ship to their shore leave arrangements. The difference of course was that Jim had nowhere to be on the planet below. As he had himself pointed out, whatever his plans for leave, they lay right here, with Spock. The thought sent a warm, tingling sensation through Spock’s rapidly beating heart. He quickly suppressed it, returning his attention to the container before him.

He pulled the tabs on either side, and watched as the box popped open with an audible hiss.

Inside was a bundle, loosely wrapped in white tissue paper. When Spock lifted the object from the box, it flexed easily, amorphous in shape. Jim took the box, setting it aside, so that Spock could tear at the paper, ripping it easily aside to expose…

“A blanket.” He turned to look at Jim, as if for an explanation. “You have given me a blanket?”

Jim laughed, rubbing a hand over his cheek. “It’s not just any blanket, Spock. Open it up.”

Spock stood, taking one end of the dark material in his hands, letting the opposite end fall away to its full width. As soon as he touched the soft fabric, he understood.

“Ah,” he gasped. “It is Vulcan cashmere.”

Spock was rapt, marveling at the simple yet beautiful design. It was a traditional pattern, painstakingly wrought in tight knit, smooth and supple to the touch. The deepest of black dyes had been used. Hours, no; days of industrious work had gone into the construction. It was luxurious, lush, and above all else, soft.

Jim stood up, chuckling at Spock’s reaction. “Well, what do you think? I know you don’t have anything like it, and Vulcan textiles are well-known for being so high quality, I thought it was kind of…”

Spock met his eyes, suppressed shock written there. “Jim, you should not have felt obligated to do this. I am aware of the high cost of such a gift, and you did not need to--”

He was interrupted mid-sentence by human lips meeting his own. They kissed, Jim’s tongue moving only just slightly into his mouth, teasing him. That warm sensation flitted through Spock’s side again and this time he did not try to control it.

“Spock,” Jim said, pulling away far enough to smile up at him, “I know how few comforts you allow yourself, but I don’t think one simple luxury is going to spoil you…” He giggled into Spock’s ear, his soft warm breath tickling the skin there.

“No,” Spock whispered. “However your human indulgences can be…” He sighed, “…distracting at times.”

Jim gasped, taking a step back. “Why, Mister Spock. Are you accusing me,” he put a palm to his chest, “of being a corrupting influence?”

Spock’s eyebrows went up, sharing the joke. “Never, Admiral.”

Jim laughed, moving in to take Spock in an even deeper, more passionate kiss. His hands roamed down Spock’s arms, meeting his hands where they clasped the blanket.

“Well,” he murmured against now pliant lips, “You should know it’s not entirely a selfless act. I fully intend to share it with you.”

“Jim.”

He looked up to find Spock’s eyes, pupils wide and open, watching him intently.

“I was thinking much the same.”

*

They fell into bed almost before Jim could get his jacket off, tugging at buttons and clasps and trying to get his shirt over his head without removing his lips from Spock’s face; which was of course quite impossible. They broke apart just long enough for the shirt to disappear, and Jim; suddenly feeling underdressed, began to fumble impatiently with the fastenings on Spock’s uniform jacket as well.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, tossing the red jacket haphazardly across the room and pulling Spock down on top of him in a tangle of limbs.

“Admiral,” Spock gasped between kisses, “There is no need for such roughness. We have plenty of time available.”

Jim grinned, tugging Spock’s shirt over his head and discarding it to the floor. “Oh, Mister Spock, I was under the impression you liked a little roughness. Was I mistaken?”

Spock’s face flushed green, and he bent to kiss Jim’s neck in an attempt to hide it. Jim just laughed, throwing his head back and cupping one hand to the back of Spock’s head, stroking his hair.

Now that they were both shirtless, Jim tugged at the blanket and pulled it up over Spock’s shoulders to cover them both.

“Ah,” he sighed. “This is nice; isn’t it?”

Spock all but purred against Jim’s throat, humming appreciatively. “Yes, Jim. A very thoughtful gift; thank you.”

“Well,” Jim said, rolling them over to straddle Spock’s waist, “Like I said, it wasn’t entirely selfless.” He chuckled, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his husband’s chest. He let his lips roam freely, planting kisses all along the soft skin, nuzzling the chest hair, and finally nibbling a teasing bite at one of the nipples.

Spock hissed in surprise, tipping his head back into the pillow with a sigh. “Ah, Jim. You have a strange interpretation of selfishness, if this qualifies.”

Jim chuckled, tickling Spock’s skin with breathy sighs as he made his way southward, leaving soft kisses as he went. He mouthed at the waist of Spock’s uniform pants, laving his tongue along the happy trail of dark hair that ran along his lower belly.

“Jim,” Spock gasped, balling tight fistfuls of bedsheets in his hands and hanging onto his composure by a fine thread. Prior experience told him that thread would soon break. He found he could not have cared less.

“Yes?” Jim sighed teasingly, blowing cool human breath on the wet area of Spock’s skin he had just been licking. The Vulcan’s skin tingled in response, and he squirmed involuntarily at the sensation. “What is it, Spock?”

“Please,” Spock said in a voice that hovered dangerously close to a whine. “Please do not tease.”

“Oh,” Jim said, pressing his hands into the bed on either side of Spock to lift himself up, moving back to Spock’s face to plant a kiss on hungry lips flushed green. “Was I teasing you? I didn’t realize…”

Spock’s head rose from the pillow, eyes blown wide with desire, and he glared accusingly up at his husband. “I do believe you are being dishonest, Ashayam. You know precisely what you are doing. In fact, as I recall similar behavior in the past, I believe it was a calculated act.”

Jim smiled. “And as _I_ recall from past experience, it’s always been very effective.”

He took Spock’s hand, laving wet kisses up one finger and down the next, taking the web between thumb and forefinger in a love bite, all the while keeping his eyes locked on Spock’s.

The Vulcan’s head slammed backward, hitting the pillow with a hard smack. There was a sharp intake of breath, and his entire body went rigid.

Spock’s brow furrowed, eyes closed, and his mouth twisted in an expression of attempted restraint. His free hand gripped the bedsheets, tugging so hard he feared the fabric may rip.

“Jim…”

This time it was most definitely a whine.

“Mmmm hmmm,” Jim hummed, taking two of Spock’s fingers in his mouth. Spock reacted perfectly, his body rising to hump the air as he hissed in an effort to suppress the moan of pleasure that threatened to escape his throat at any moment.

All right. It was well past time for these pants to be gone. Jim let go of Spock’s hand, returning quickly to the waistband of his uniform pants, unbuttoning and sliding them down his legs without preamble. Spock’s cock sprang free as the pants and underwear fell away, clearly eager for some attention.

Jim giggled at the sight of Spock laid bare, hands no longer gripping the sheets, but arms flung wide, head back, legs open – ready for anything. There was a time this would have been unthinkable. But no more. They no longer denied themselves anything they were capable of giving one another.

Jim didn’t waste any more time. He leaned forward, taking Spock’s dick into his mouth in one smooth movement, straight down until it hit the back of his throat.

“Ah!” Spock cried out in surprise, hands immediately going to the back of Jim’s head, wet fingers entwining his hair. “Jim, yes!”

Jim hummed in affirmation, bobbing his head up and down in a smooth rhythm. He had to admit, if someone had told him all those years ago that this would be his life, he’d never have believed them. And after wanting and pining for Spock for so long, he’d never have thought this perfect synchronicity they shared, this ease and comfort, could ever have been possible. It would have all seemed just too good to be true. But here they were.

He reached up with one hand to stroke Spock’s balls, gently tugging at them in a loose grip as he continued to suck.

Spock made a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and Jim hummed with amusement again, radiating all the love and affection he could in his mind, knowing Spock could sense it through their touch.

He picked up the pace, sensing Spock’s orgasm would come soon, and sure enough, the Vulcan gripped the back of Jim’s head with an increasing sense of urgency. He thrust harder and faster into Jim’s mouth, almost to the point of knocking Jim off rhythm, but he quickly adjusted and felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction when the first jet of hot cum hit the back of his throat.

Spock’s back arched, his knees bent, and his head flung back in ecstasy as he came, one arm wrapped around the pillow behind his head, pressing it hard against his cheek as if he could melt into it. But he was on his back before Jim and there was nowhere to hide. Not that he would want to. Some years ago, he would have buried his face in the pillow, held back his vocalizations so as to hide his shame. But that was all in the past, and he found he no longer wished to hide. Not from Jim.

Jim gently released the tip of Spock’s cock with soft wet lips, letting it come to rest against one thigh. He looked up to find his husband boneless, utterly spent, one arm still tucked behind the pillow and his head turned to one side. His eyes were closed in repose and Jim didn’t think he’d ever seen Spock look so peaceful as he did in this moment.

“Beautiful,” he said. “Just beautiful.”

Spock’s eyes slitted open, and he hummed in question, clearly too sleepy even to speak aloud.

Jim chuckled, pulling the blanket over them and sliding alongside Spock into “big spoon” position. He tucked the blanket over Spock’s shoulder, turning onto his side and tugging Spock to him. He tucked Spock’s head under his own chin, wrapped his arms around him, and sighed with contentment.

“Jim,” Spock said, his voice almost a whisper, “We have not yet seen to your needs. Should I?”

“Shhh,” Jim ran one hand along Spock’s naked back in a soothing motion. “Hush,” he said. “We’ll worry about that later. You catch your breath, rest for a while. I’m fine.”

Spock hummed again, shifting closer into Jim’s embrace. “Selfish indeed… You are quite possibly the least selfish lover one ever heard of, t’hy’la.”

Jim chuckled, pressing a kiss into Spock’s hair. “Hush, you.”

They lay there a moment, just enjoying the quiet, the softness of the blanket on their skin, and the warmth of one another. Finally, Jim leaned back just enough to tuck one finger under Spock’s chin, coaxing him to look up.

“Should we meld now?” Jim asked, grinning mischievously. “You know the effect that usually has on me.”

A fire burned in Spock’s eyes and he leaned forward to kiss Jim’s smiling mouth. “Indeed.”

“I think this is going to be a lovely shore leave,” Jim chuckled. “Don’t you? So much to do, so much to see…”

Spock rolled over, pressing Jim’s back into the mattress. “Admiral, I do not intend to leave this bed. There are more than enough sights and activities to keep us occupied right here.”

Jim laughed, pushing back the blanket and wrapping his arms around Spock as the Vulcan pressed warm fingers against Jim’s face, finding the psi points with practiced ease.

“Why, Mister Spock, that’s precisely what I meant!”

***

This incredible artwork is by [petimetrek](http://petimetrek.tumblr.com)!!!

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr: [k/s blog](http://spirkian.tumblr.com/) | [personal blog](http://vgersix.tumblr.com/) | [email me](mailto:vgersixwrites@gmail.com)


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